


Jealousy makes you nasty as fuck

by AphroditeB00w



Category: Griefer Belt (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Denial, Explicit Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hospitals, Lars has no chill, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Violence, Smut, lars is a sarcastic mother fucker, love without sex, scott does ineffective yoga, shower scene, wish i didnt love you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-22 23:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8305391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AphroditeB00w/pseuds/AphroditeB00w
Summary: Lars has to come to terms with his real feelings for Scott, by trying to save his life.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's totally self indulgent. Mostly a flash fiction piece to satisfy my own imagination. Sorry-not-sorry.  
> I know there are people out there who like Seong, but I am not one of them, so If you like him, maybe don't read this fic.
> 
> Please excuse any typos I've missed.
> 
> Any comments, questions, or favourite lines are welcome :)

Lars had just lit up his second cigarette and was feeling bored. He tapped a non-rhythm on the steering wheel, his impatience seeping through. Twitter was boring, Instagram was done, Facebook wasn’t even to be touched and he hadn’t even brought a book. Looking at the dim lighting spilling over the asphalt leading up to the rows and rows of shipping containers, he wondered what was taking so long. Heaving a huge, melodramatic sigh, he slouched in the front seat of the van, pouting.

Then the loud, metallic bang and clank of a shipping container’s door made him sit up again. Turning his head in the direction of the noise, his hand stilled, cigarette forgotten.  
Seong was running towards the van, looking angry and frightened. Addie was behind him, but wasn’t keeping up because…

Scott’s left arm was draped over her shoulder. He couldn’t use his right arm because it was holding his intestines in his stomach, blood dropping and spattering on the ground as they limped as fast as possible towards Lars and the van.

“Shit.” Lars said, wrenching open the car door, and leaping out. 

“What the fuck happened?” he demanded as Seong came to a stop next to him, panting.

“It was a set up. We got jumped…” he started but Lars was already moving forward. He noticed the Addie was limping too, and saw the leaking wound from the top of her thigh.

“Gunshot?” he asked her, coming around to Scott other side and lifting his shoulder.

She nodded. “We got jumped.”

“I heard.” Lars replied shortly. “What happened to Scott?”

“Adelaide.” Addie replied, huffing the name out.

Shit fuckity shit. That fucking psychopathic cunt. Always very free with her knives. To her, it was only fun if people arrived as wholes and left in fractions.

Scott collapsed into the car, Lars and Addie hauled the rest of him in, while Seong stood around looking stupid. Lars glared at him. “Get in the van.”

“He needs a hospital.” Addie said as she climbed and Lars started the car.

“Where do you think I'm going? There’s a towel in the back, use it to stop the bleeding if you can.”

Lars screeched out of the abandoned parking lot, mentally plotting a route to the ER where his personal doctor was in residence. He pulled onto the highway, ignoring the angry honking that it cased as he smoothly glided into traffic.

“How bad is it?” he asked.

There was silence from the back seat. Seong was looking between him and the spectacle nervously.

“Addie!” Lars snapped.

“I don’t know. His eyes are open but he isn’t saying anything…” she answered quietly, voiced cracked.

His eyes are open but he isn’t saying anything…

Lars felt his heart rate, already drumming, kick up a notch.

“Is he breathing?” Lars asked, voice level.

“Yes.”

“Good.” 

He swung into the ER drive way and stopped with a screech. Running in ahead, he stopped at the counter, where a bored looking nurse met his gaze.

“I need Dr. Nilsson.” He said to her.

She blinked at him. “Sir, I’m afraid...”

“Don’t be. But unless you get up, off your behind right now and fetch Dr Nilsson for me, you will have a good reason to.”

This time her face warred between shock and fear at the low level menace in his tone. He grinned at her.

“Or I can go in myself. I know where his office is. And I know he is here. Believe me, he will see me.”

She still looked uncertain and Lars lost his patience, slamming the counter hard as Addie and Seong came in carrying Scott between them. 

“Now!” Lars shouted, pushing all his lordling authority into his voice. She finally got the message, shot up from her chair and left. Lars turned to the trio, and saw that Scott was unconscious.

Not Scot not Scott not Scott… 

He noticed then, the scars over Addie’s now paling face and the angle of Seong nose indicated it might be broken.

“Shit.” He said when he had taken them in. “I thought you guys could handle yourselves. What do I pay you for?” he snapped at them, uncaring of the looks of aggravated sock on their faces.

“Put him down and sit down both of you.” he told them. 

The door leading to the ER room opened and he saw DR Nilsson.

“About time.” He snarled, indicating his crew. The doctor, a short portly man with blonde hair, gazed at them dispassionately in turn, assessing. He pointed to Scott.

“That one first.” 

“No shit. Where’s the fucking gurney?” Lars snapped. As if on cue, the door opened and an orderly pulled in a bed. He bent to help Lars put Scott’s heavy unconscious form on the bed, and followed Dr. Nilsson in without looking to see if the others followed.


	2. 2

While Addie and Seong were left to be corrected and bandaged up in the ER, Scott had been moved in a rush to the surgical table. Lars clenched and unclenched his hands, then fished out his phone and dialled.

Two rings, pick up.

“Laaars.” Adelaide’s sickly sweet voice drawled on the line.

“Adelaide.” He replied, deceptively calm. “Why are you damaging my employees?”

“Just one employee, darling.” She replied, giggling. “Don’t be melodramatic.”

“This one happens to be quite irreplaceable.” He said casually.

“Oh?” she replied, feigning surprise. “That must be why the bounty is so high then.”

Lars paused. “Bounty?”

“Hmmm, yes.”

Lars leaned against the wall of the hospital corridor outside the surgery. “You need to leave him alone.”

“Aw” she replied, sounding upset. “I can’t do that. Then I won’t get my money.”

Lars had to stop himself from offering her twice whatever she was being paid.

“You need to leave him alone, or your knives will be meeting with mine, darling. Remember how well that turned out last time?”

He heard a slight huff on the other line. “Perhaps we can discuss this another time. I have an appointment.”

“Who hired you?”

“Don’t be dense. Tata, Lars.”

Lars heard the dial tone and swore loudly, causing a passing nurse of student or whatever to glance at him in shock. He ignored it. Fucking Cowan. It had to be. 

He looked up when Seong came up the passage, a bandage across his nose and a rapidly spreading bruise forming around his eyes. Lars levelled a look at him.

“Tell me what happened.” He said, and Seong’s gaze flickered.

“We went in and we were waiting for the shipment, but these guys came up from behind us Lars.” He explained, all fluster and fluttering hands. “There were five of them, and Adelaide. They laid into Addie and me, but Adelaide went straight for Scott. Addie got us out of there, but only just.”

Lars narrowed his eyes. “And you got away with just a broken nose.”

The smaller man looked shocked, mouth agape. “What do you mean, just a broken nose? I fought them, Lars…”

“Shooting-star,” he pushed away from the wall. “If I find out that you had anything to do with this mishap…well, you had better hope I don’t.”

Seong’s face was a mask of surprise, then twisted into an angry hiss. “Is this because of your new bed buddy? Like he is more important than the rest of us?”

Lars watched him steam and bluster. Seong's jealousy was obvious from day one, but lately he wondered if it hadn’t taken a more sinister turn. 

“Every one of my employees is important to me.” He replied evenly, but let a little of his earlier menace creep in. “If you want to remain an employee, curb your tone. If not, well then,” he waved a dismissive hand and carried on past the smaller man. “Leave.”

He found Addie back in the ER, gritting her teeth as a doctor stitched up the hole in her leg. She didn’t see him until he was right next to her.

“You alright?” he asked.

She glanced at him, her expression pained but resolute. “Yeah.” She flinched slightly as the probing doctor twitched the thread he was using. “It was Cowan.”

“It was Cowan.” Lars affirmed with small nod, looking pensively at a spot above her head. “Can you stay here? Let me know when Scott gets out?”

She darted a questioning glance at him. “Sure.”

He nodded once, firmly, before turning and walking out. He got back in the van and managed to drive halfway home before pulling over on the shoulder, leaning his head against the steering wheel and pushing his fingers into the perfectly silky hair.

Not Scott.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lars has a moment in the hospital.  
> Playing a bit with the concept of bleeding on the brain, not really based in medical fact.

Two days later, Lars sauntered up to Scott’s room in the hospital, having been alerted that he had finally woken up. It was one of the good ones that he wouldn’t have to share. Only the best money could buy, since it was on Lars' dime. He stopped short of entering, hearing Addie and Scott’s voice lifted in conversation. The sound of Scott’s deeper voice, though softened by injury, left a ripple of relief floating over Lars, and he let out a heavy breathe.

“It was fucked up. Not your fault.” Addie was saying.

“Tell Lars I’m sorry though.” Scott replied

Lars chose this moment to walk in. “Sorry for what?” he said by way of announcing himself. He had prepared a smile for the moment, but it slipped when he saw Scott’s face.

Scott grinned sheepishly, or at least Lars thought he did. It was hard to see through the swollen, bruised mish mash of his face. His hair, never the tidiest, was lank and greasy from not having showered for a few days, and sitting up in the bed, Lars could see his midsection bandaged up tightly. His eyes skittered over the injuries and came to rest again on his face.

“For the bill.” Scott said ruefully.

Scott gave himself a mental shake, restarting his brain. “Don’t worry about it. You can work it back.” he said with his trademark glittered grin. Scott rolled his eyes. He looked back to Addie to distract himself. “How’s the leg?”

She grimaced. “It’s fine. I’ve had worse.” 

Lars nodded at that. “I’m sorry sweetie. I didn’t think he’d stoop so low.”

“So it’s a turf war then?” Scott asked, voice still softly slurring. Lars avoided his gaze, instead strolling nonchalantly to the window overlooking a small internal courtyard.

“Something like that.” he replied, though he wasn’t sure of the truth in it. “You dot need to worry about it. I’ve got it handled.”

“Lars, we can help too you know.” Addie said acerbically.

He shrugged. “Not really. You plan on dealing with my mother? No, I didn’t think so.”

“Your mother?” Scott sounded surprised. “When did she get involved?”

Good question, Lars thought to himself. Extremely good question. But she was involved, that was for sure. And Lars had to do some clean up.

“Like I said, don’t you worry your pretty little heads.” He turned with a false smile. “I’m the boss, I’ll deal with it.”

“Lars-“Scott started but trailed off, his eyes going blank and voice disappearing. Lars turned to face him fully then.

“Scott?” he said. “Scott!” but the man didn’t respond. The room filled with a sick silence and Lars strode up to the bed, taking Scott by the shoulders and shaking. “Scott, wake up!”

“Don’t shake him, you fool.” Nilsson said behind him, but Lars didn’t let go. He exchanged fearful looks with Addie. 

“What the fuck is happening?” Lars demanded “He was talking and then he turned into a mannequin.”

“It’s a seizure. And you shaking him is not helping.” The doctor said, pulling on Lars shoulder, but he needn’t have, because Lars hands dropped like they had been stung.

“Seizure? He’s epileptic?” 

“No.” Nilsson shook his head slightly. “It’s a result of several hard blows to the head. Minor bleeding on the brain. It will dissipate and be gone in a few days.”

Scott had been hit so hard, it had make him this temporarily a lifeless doll-like thing. Lars, horrified, stared at the blonde man, and watched him become animated again before his eyes. He blinked then, looked at their faces. “Oh shit, did it happen again?”

Lars struggled to keep his cool. He breathed carefully in and out of his narrow nose, while Nilsson went on. 

“I’ll be discharging you tomorrow, Scott. Do you have anyone you can stay with? Until the seizures are under control?”

Addie drew breath. “Scott, you can-“

“You’re staying with me.” Lars interceded. He shot a stern look at Addie’s confused face. Scott, too, looked surprised. He sighed.

“I need some privacy. Shoo.” He said to Addie and Nilsson. The doctor shrugged and walked out, but Addie was looking shrewd as she limped out; Lars ignored her. He waited until the door was closed before taking the chair Addie had been using, crossing his legs elegantly and threading his fingers in his lap. Then he met Scott’s eyes, who was looking at him uncertainly.

“There’s a hit out on you.” he explained.

“A hit? Why?” Scott’s left eye widened, as the right one couldn’t.

Lars shrugged, though he had a suspicion. “I’m not sure. But until I can resolve it, you need to be somewhere safe, where they can’t get you. That would be at my apartment.”

Scott dragged a hand over his face, then winced, fingers catching on the stiches above his eyebrows. Lars controlled his own wince.

“You look like shit.” He said, to ease the tension which lay coiled in his muscles. It didn’t help.

Scott didn’t appreciate the joke. “Thanks, Lars.” He said, and lowered a shaking hand.

“You ok?” Lars asked, concern seeping into his voice. “I promise, I’ll sort it out. You don’t have to worry.”

“I know, I trust you.” Scott answered. “I think it’s the blood loss or something…” he said looking at his shaking hand. Without intending to, Lars leaned forward, and caught it, steadying its shaking with his own firm fingers. Scott stilled and so did Lars, realising what he had done. 

“Lars-“Scott said softly.

“Just.” Lars interrupted, unable to deal with whatever was going on in that moment. One thing at a time. “Just don’t die.”

He stared at their linked hands, unable to look Scott in the eye. “Just say ok.”

“Ok.” Scott said quietly.

“Good” Lars said then shook himself free of Scott’s hand, walking out before he changed his mind.


	4. 4

Lars had picked Scott up from the hospital and driven his straight to his place. He wouldn’t risk Scott being out in the open and unattended.

“What about my stuff?” Scott asked.

“I’ll buy you stuff. You dress like a pauper anyway. What do you do with the money I pay you?” Lars asked.

The other man looked cagey. “Student loans.”

Lars rolled his eyes. “Sure. Anyway, I’ll make sure you have everything you need, don’t worry. I’ll look after my big boy.” He winked.

Scott got that cutely shy look whenever Lars used the pet name. “Is there really a hit out on me?”

Lars nodded. 

“Why? What about the others?”

“For some reason, it’s just your blood they’re after. And they sent a particularly vicious blood hound too.” Scott looked at him and Lars noticed he didn’t look afraid, just serious.   
“Addie told me. Her name is Adelaide.”

“Hmmm, yes.”

“You know her.” Scott wasn’t asking.

“Yes I do.” Lars sighed enormously. “We attended school together. So trust me when I say, she isn’t a very friendly rival.”

“Not?”

“No. in fact, it’s surprising you’re still here now. It’s not like her to leave a job half done. But she has been known to play with her victims.”

“Jesus.” Scott said, rubbing his face again, and wincing. Again.

“Stop doing that.” Lars berated. “You’ll make it bleed.”

“I know. I just keep forgetting.”

Lars refrained from snorting. “You look like Pigpen.”

“Who’s Pigpen?”

“Plebeian. From Charlie brown? The comic? The movie?”

Scott still looked clueless and Lars gave up. “We need to work on your literary education, Mr ‘student’s loans.”

They made their slow way into the apartment, as Scott still couldn’t move too quickly with a massive hole in his stomach and a set of broken ribs, but he was too stubborn to let Lars help him. Eventually though, they did make it there, but not before Scott had developed a fine sheen of sweat over his face.

“Just go lie on the bed.” Lars said but Scott shook his head.

“Shower. I feel disgusting.”

“Amen to that.” Lars agreed and merely scoffed at the eye roll Scott sent him. “I’ll help.”

“Lars-“

“Just go.”

Lars helped him disrobe, and Scott stopped complaining quickly realising he would never have been able to undress and get in the shower in his own. Lars himself stripped down only to his black boxers, and ushered Scott in without preamble, seating him on the small side step there. He could see the strain on Scott’s face, the effort it cost him to move was making him pale, and he was huffing shallow breathes.

“Does it hurt?” Lars asked, as the water cascaded over them, and he carefully washed the body he knew so well. Scott nodded, eyes tight closed.

“We’ll get some food into you, then pain killers, then bed.”

Scott clearly had no energy left to argue. Lars squirted shampoo into his hair and lathered it slowly, letting Scott rest his head against his abdomen.

“That feels good.” Scott murmured.

“Hmmm.” Lars replied. “I should have been a stylist.”  
Scott’s answering laugh was shallow, more breathe than sound but he didn’t move. Lars felt his hand come out and grip the back of his knee loosely. 

“Thank Lars.” So soft he could barely hear it above the spray.

The leaner man didn’t reply, but he unhooked the shower head so he could rinse Scotts hair as he leaned against him, using him for solid support. He let his hand run through the thick blonde locks, languidly letting the soap pass through and down the freckled skin of his back. He didn’t care that Scott was naked, and it wasn’t sexual. He didn’t even care that him being under the spray himself left him looking like a bedraggled wet rat. He only sighed out a relieved breathe that Scott was there, that he was alive, that he was safe.

He only just manged to get Scott dry and in bed before he nearly passed out.

“So much for food. You’ll have to take these on an empty stomach.” Lars said, handing him his meds. Scott took them, swallowing them dry and making Lars gag at the thought. 

He watched as Scott rolled over onto the side he usually occupied when he stayed over, barely awake enough to comprehend his action, leaving a space for Lars on his side. Lars stared at his back, not taking the opportunity, and waited for his breathe to even before leaving, to take a proper shower.

-8-

“Mother, I know it was you. Don’t bother denying it. What I don’t know is why?”

His mother was silent on the other end. Her voice was quieter these days, but her words were still made of iron. He waited with anxious impatience.

“I told you not to get attached my dear.” She replied, as if he were being tiresome.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that your other little play thing, what his name, short, stupid haircut…”

“Seong?” 

“Probably. Anyway, he came to me and told me you’ve been favouring your current bed mate a little too much. I decided to take matters into my own hands. Cowan owed me a favour.”

“What?” Lars said, incensed. “You listened to a jealous, jumped up little fuck and decided to take out Scott? Who is one of my-and your- most valuable and effective employees?”

“We can always find more hands.”

“Really mother? Because people willing to kill a cut people up for money and silence are a dime a dozen. I can’t believe you were so stupid.”

“Watch your tone.”

“I will have whatever tone I like. The Belt is under my supervision-“

“And it does not belong to you yet. And if you carry on this way, it won’t.”

Lars was struck. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we only survive in this business if we don’t let our emotions handle us. Think it over.”

Lars made a fist and thumped the marble countertop of his kitchen. “You need to call off Cowan.”

“Stop acting like a child.”

“Mother.”

His mother remained silent for a time then; “Alright. But I think I’ve made my point, son? Don’t make me do it again.”

Lars hung up, but sat staring at the wall for some time.

Not Scott.

It was becoming a mantra.


	5. Chapter 5

“Don’t touch!”

“But Lars-“

“I said don’t touch.”

Lars was carefully peeling off the surgical band aid that covered Scott’s scar. It was due for a change after a week and Lars told him he would take care of it. He smacked Scott’s hand away again.

“Don’t keep interrupting me, I might make a mistake and rip out your stitches.”

“Ha ha.” Scott said, giving in and laying his hands down at his sides. “It feels weird.”

“Hurt?”

“No. a little, maybe. I just meant the stickiness from the band aid.” He observed the discoloured flesh where the glue had adhered to his skin. “Yuck. Like a dead thing.”

“You’re not dead.” Lars said distractedly, pulling still. It was almost removed.

“Reminds me of a zombie movie.”

Lars humphed a laugh, though it wasn’t very amusing. He finally removed the things properly and sat back, looking at the cut sceptically.

“That’s going to be some scar.” He said, whistling.

“Uh, the sexy kind or the avert-my-eyes kind?” Scott asked. Lars noticed he was looking deliberately out of the window. Lars paused in his ministrations, trying to figure out his expression.

“Are you squeamish?” Lars asked eventually, incredulous. “Seriously?”

“Only when it comes to my own person.” Scott said, disgruntled. 

“But you have other scars.” Lars touched the round mark on his shoulder. “There, a bullet wound.”

“If I have to deal with them myself, I almost always pass out.” Scott said, ears reddening.

Lars paused for a second before bursting into uncontrolled laughter, the scowl on Scott’s face only making it last longer. Eventually the mirth receded and he wiped his eye.

“That’s adorable.” Lars said, shaking his head. “Lucky for you, I am not squeamish. That explains your lack of tattoos though.”

Scott only humphed, still not looking at the livid scar on his abdomen. Now that Lars really saw it, it was a clean cut, extending from his left hip to just past his navel, seemingly incomplete. But after the suturing and residual blood, it was an ugly mouth of a scar, and it reminded Lars of the Scott stumbling towards him, arm clothed over his belly to stop his insides falling out. All residual mirth left him then, and he schooled his features to look absent, nimble fingers taking up cotton and alcohol to clean the cut before applying a new bandage. Scott watched him in silence.

“So, is the hit still out?” Scott asked after a time.

Lars shrugged. “I still have to make a call or two, to make sure. I can’t trust my mother.”

“I still don’t understand what your mother has to do with this. I thought you ran the Belt.”

“So did I. She is interfering where she isn’t wanted. Now I have to clean up the mess.”

“Am I the mess?” Scott asked, and something in his voice made Lars look up from his ministrations. Scott seemed vulnerable in more than just body then. “I’m sorry Lars. I know you don’t like sharing your space. And now you have to babysit me.”

“It wasn’t something you did.” Lars replied, looking away from his earnest expression. “And I look after my employees.”

“I didn’t take you for nursemaid though.”

Lars pinched his mouth and slapped the cut lightly, making Scott cry out. “Fuck, Lars!”

“I’m not a nurse maid, you twit. I just can’t trust anyone else to be around you yet.” Lars replied dismissively, removing Scott's had and peeling the plastic of the new bandage. He laid it with mathematical precision over the sutures. “Done. Next time, squeamish or no, you will do this yourself.”

“I could have done this myself now.” Scott protested.

“And have you ripping a stitch and bleeding all over my Egyptian cotton? I don’t think so.” Lars said, packing away the medical supplies and tossing the dirty things in the bin. He stood up and went to wash his hands in the en suite.

“I’m thinking eggs benedict for lunch.” He called.

“You’re gonna make me fat.” Scott replied. “I don’t usually eat this well.”

“Surprise surprise.” Lars replied dryly, coming out while rubbing lotion into his hands.

Scott grimaced but didn’t reply. His blonde hair hung in shaggy layers over his face, and his freckles stood out against his still pale skin. Lars felt his tongue still in his mouth, and in spite of himself, he and Scott shared a lingering look. A small half smile accompanied a slow blink in Lars direction.

“Seriously though. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Lars said curtly. “I’m off to call for food.”

-8-

“For crying out loud, Lars. Do you have to play the music so loud?”

Lars, moving from salute-to-the-sun into downward-facing-dog, did not look his way. Nessum Dorma blared loud and hard on the speakers, filling the apartment edge to edge with glorious notes and impossible voices. He breathed out.

“Yes.”

Scott had been staying there for a week and a half, and had only really been awake for half of it. He could move on his own, but it was with an old man’s shuffle. He refused help and Lars was glad for it. He didn’t have the temperament for playing prolonged babysitter. 

He focussed on his breathing and not on the blonde man currently occupying his couch, wearing the expensive, high quality clothes he had bought for him. Lars regretted it now, buying a shirt that would accentuate his physique and cling to the muscles in his arms. The swelling on his face had died and the purple of the bruises gone yellow, but the blue of his eyes still shone. In spite of his complaint that good eating was going to make him fat, he still had the solid, thick muscle encasing his bones, skin like stardust. 

Scott had been moved to the spare bedroom, and hadn’t questioned it. Lars wished he would, but was glad he didn’t. 

But he wished he would. 

But was glad he didn’t.

Inhale. Exhale. He endeavoured to make his body glide, concentrating on the sinews of his muscles, the linking of his bones.

But opera blasted in his ears, reaching a crescendo that made the windows rattle, which hadn’t been an issue until Scott had sat down and started watching him. Eventually, his skin itched with the imagined contact. He slumped down, pulling his legs into a kneel and used the remote to turn the music off with an irritated motion.

“What, Scott?”

Scott’s blue eyes bored into his, and Lars felt his heart beat stutter. So much for yoga.

“Scott?” but the man kept staring. “Shit, are you having a seizure?” he became alerted and made to get up but Scott’s hand came up to halt him.

“No Lars, I’m just looking at you.”

Lars resettled, acting as if he hadn’t just been about to freak out. “Watching me.”

“Yeah.”

Lars, pushed an errant lock of hair back into its messy bun. “Like what you see?”

“Always.”

Lars tried to curb the lurch in his chest. Really, he was being ridiculous. It wasn’t as if they had never slept together. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know exactly what lay underneath the thin fabric of his shirt and jeans. But the warmth in Scott’s voice was unfamiliar.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, invalid.” Lars teased, though his heart wasn’t in it.

“I’m not.” Scott said, leaning on his hand and then gazing out of the window like what he had said had not consequence. “Not everything is a sexual innuendo, Lars.”

“Yes it is.”

“This wasn’t.”

“Then I don’t understand it.” Lars replied, giving up on yoga and wondering about kick boxing instead. Too much pent up energy. He would have gone over to Seong, but he wasn’t quite over the betrayal, and likely would never be. “If it’s not about work or sex, there’s no point.”

“Oh really?” Scott said sarcastically.

“Really.” Lars retreated behind the kitchen island and opened the fridge door, looking for some green juice concoction he had delivered.

“Then why am I here?” Scott asked.  
Lars heaved a loud sigh, indicating how aggravating he found this conversation. “I’ve told you. Until there is no longer a price on your head, you really shouldn’t be outside. Besides, you walk around like an old man. How would you even look after yourself?”

“I could ask Addie. Or you could. You don’t have to be the one-“

“Do you want me to call Addie then?” Lars said, slamming the door closed. “If you prefer her company-“

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then stop your bitching.”

“I’m not the one who’s bitching right now.”

“Fine.” Lars said, stomping his way back to this room, but as he passed Scott, the man shot out a hand and grabbed his loose one, stopping him.

“Lars, can you just chill a minute?” Scott asked.

“I have work to do.” Lars told him coldly.

“Please.”

Lars rolled his eyes and shook his hand loose. “Fine, what?”

Scott eyed him, and realising Lars wasn’t going to make it easy, heaved himself up off the couch. Eventually he stood, at height with Lars and moved into his personal space. Without waiting for an invitation he leaned in close and pressed a kiss to Lars’ lips. Though unexpected, Lars’s mouth opened hungrily, meeting the kiss and dragging it out. It was unlike him, but he kept his arms to his sides, refusing to touch the other man, though Scott’s fingers traced a rough, calloused line under his jaw and behind his ear.

Lars huffed a hot breath into Scott’s mouth. He couldn’t do this. But he wanted to do this.

“You need to stop that.”

“I’m just saying thank you.”

“That’s not what you’re saying, kissing me like that.”

“That’s what I’m saying, kissing you like that.”

Lars’ eyes were still closed, and they hadn’t moved apart. Scott smelled like clean sweat, medical fluid and soap. The fluffy hair tickled the side of Lars’ face.

“Lars, what’s going on here?” Scott asked.

Lars shook himself then, and leaned away.

“Nothing. You’re injured, I’m making sure you stay alive, while you’re in my employ.” He said curtly, looking away down the passage.

Scott dropped his hand. “And if I quit? Would you still be looking after me then?”

Lars shot a glare at him. “You want to quit?”

“No, I-“

“Fine. Quit. See how long you survive then.”

“Lars, I don’t want to quit. I’m just trying to make a point.”

“Your point.” Lars said as he turned on his heel and stormed down the passage “is stupid.” 

“You’re being childish.”

“You sound like my mother!”

Lars slammed his bedroom door behind him, unsure of what just happened. He fought to calm his heart rate, using techniques he had perfected years before, but hadn’t had to use in a while. He stared at the skyline, realigned his spine and breathed slowly. Distantly, he heard the door of the spare room close, and he ignored it.

No attachments.


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Adelaide

By the time he came out of his room, Scott had left. His door was open and the bed lay bare, if unmade, slob that he was. Lars told himself good riddance, and ignored how empty his usually empty apartment felt. He tsked to himself and let his hair down, redoing it in its usual plait. He hadn’t lied, he had a job to do, but he wanted to wait a few minutes so he wouldn’t catch Scott on the way out.

As he was tying the end his phone rang.

“Lars.” He answered briefly.

“You shouldn’t let your pets run around without a leash, Lars darling.” Adelaide voice purred sweetly into the phone.

Lars felt numb, then unfroze and immediately started for the front door, Adelaide’s tinkling laughter ringing in his ears. Looking at the elevator numbers he saw both of them on the ground floor, which was five floors down. He could run it. 

He flew down the stair case, taking six at a time, landing wrong on some of them and smacking into the wall then using it to rebound off and down the next set of stairs. Hurry hurry…

He burst through the emergency door, just off the side of lobby and caught sight of Scott outside the lobby doors, waiting for cab on the curb.

“Scott!” he bellowed.

The blonde man turned, and Lars ran for the door, having seen the sun shining off red, red hair... he put his shoulder to the glass door, making it bang open and probably causing himself a bruise he would see later but managed to grab Scott and yank him aside, just as Adelaide thrust the knife into the space he had just occupied.

He turned to her, panting slightly, watching her too sharp features stretch into a brittle smile. Adelaide always looked like she had been drawn with a fountain pen; all sharp lines and blotches. Her lips and eyebrows were thin, and her eyes glittered like an avaricious bird, while her hair swung like a red glossy curtain around her face. 

She was holding up a short knife, but with a soundless glitter of light, it disappeared about her person. It all happened in less than twenty seconds, and the mundane continued to flow around them.

“Lars!” She said, with false brightness, as if they had happened to pass each other on the street. “So lovely to see you.”

Lars faced her, moving himself more obviously between her and Scott. “It’s not lovely to see you Adelaide.”

“Don’t be that way.” She pouted. “In any case, I was here to see your friend.” She waggled her eyebrows perversely at Scott over Lars’ shoulder.

“You have no business with him. I called off the hit.”

“Did you? I don’t recall getting any memo about it.”

“Then speak to your boss.”

She shrugged. “We don’t talk like we used to. Can’t I just speak to him for a moment?” she indicated Scott and leaned closer, speaking conspiratorially. “I wanted to take his stiches out. One.by.one.”

Lars felt the hot burn of anger fill his chest. “You touch him, you’ll be starting something you can’t finish. Or rather, that I’ll finish for you.”

“Oooh! Listen to that malice!” Adelaide crowed, clapping her hands. “I love getting you hot and bothered.” She leaned to the left, supposedly catching Scott’s eye. “Don’t you?”

“What the fuck-“Scott started.

“Shut up, Scott.” Lars interrupted. “Adelaide. Darling. If you don’t get your feet off my sidewalk in the next two minutes, I will have to reacquaint you with my own knife collection.” 

This time he leaned closer to her, so he could whisper in her ear. “Remember the last time I did that? Do you still have the scar?”

Adelaide flinched, a miniscule movement, but Lar’s caught it with satisfaction. “Exactly. And don’t worry about your boss, he and I will have a chat.”

Adelaide didn’t look so perky now, but she still managed to swing her hair back from her face and turn on her heel in a casual movement, wiggling her fingers over her shoulder as she walked away. Lars hissed a breathe through his teeth, then turned and grabbed Scott’s arm.

“I told you, you’re only safe in my apartment.” He snapped, pulling him on too gently back towards the door. Scott grunted and brought an arm around his belly, but Lars didn’t care. The elevator ride up was tense but he didn’t stop pushing until he had closed the front door behind them both. Then he pointed at Scott.

“You. Do as you’re told. Stay here. I don’t care if you’re climbing the walls and frothing at the mouth from cabin fever. You stay here until I say you can leave.” 

Scott was staring at him round-eyed. He pushed a hand through his hair, pulling it back from his face, making him look childlike. “That’s the chick who got me before. She   
almost-“

“Killed you, yes. The fact that you have managed to survive her twice now is a miracle you are too ignorant to appreciate.”

“So there is still a hit on me?”

“Did you think I was lying, you idiot!” Lars shouted at him, striding past him and throwing his hands in the air. “What’s the point in patching you up, giving you safe haven, letting you sleep in my personal space if you’re just going to walk out anyway, straight onto one of her blades?”

“I’m sorry, I thought you said you’d fixed it.”

“I told you it wasn’t resolved. Listen up next time.” 

Lars went to retrieve the green juice he had forgotten before, then changed his mind, and poured himself a whiskey instead. God, Scott had almost died again… 

He heard Scott collapse onto the couch. “Shit.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, Lars. “

“Will you stop fucking saying that!” Lars shouted. His edginess was palpable. He needed to hit something. Or cut someone.

“Now, you are going to stay put. No one can come in here, its hallowed ground after all. I’m off to work, since we are one man down.” Lars said, before knocking back the rest of the drink, and walking out without another word.


	7. 7

He arrived back late in the night, the starry lights of the city burning already and a hush had settled into the very ground. Only the shadow people were alive now, and they made no sound. 

He went straight to the shower, turning it on with a grunt. There was blood in his hair. He hated that. He let the water massage his heated muscles and wash the nights work off him. Cleaning meticulously under his nails, he examined them and made a mental note to make a stop at the salon the next day. Then he scrubbed hard at the rest of himself, as if trying to wash the day away, even though it was a fruitless endeavour.

Seong had been a bitter little bitch tonight. Lars had been short with him, and seeing the snide curl of anger over his face only made Lars want to cut him. He would have to talk to him before this got out of hand. Oh wait, it already had.

He towel himself off, too lazy to dry his hair too, plaiting it instead. As he walked back into this room he paused, looking at the clock. Three AM.

Just once. He could, just once.

Softly, his feet padded over the muffling carpet, to where Scott slept. He could just make out the lump that was Scott under the covers. Ever so slowly, he climbed onto the bed next to him, letting his eyes adjust. Scott’s face was turned towards him, relaxed in sleep, a tiny space between his lips where his mouth parted. In the night, his face was all planes and shadows, the colours muted and monochromatic. Lars let his hand come up and hover just above Scott’s cheek, almost but not quite touching. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what Scott stubble is felt like. He knew. But still, still..

“You’re being creepy.” Scott murmured.

To his credit, he didn’t move a muscle. Lars closed his eyes, breathing out through his nose. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Me? You’re the one creeping on me in my sleep.”

Lars immediately made to roll over and leave the bed and Scott’s arm snaked around his waist, tight and unbending.

“Let go.”

“Lars, stop being an idiot and lie here.”

“Let go.”

“If you keep yanking, you’re gonna make me pull a stich.”

“Then let go.”

“No.”

Abruptly, the fight went out of him. He stopped pulling, and when he didn’t get up he let Scott’s arm pull him down again, towards him, until his back rested against the sleepy man’s chest, and Scott’s hand came up, and rested over his heart.

“I don’t spoon.”

“Ok.” Scott murmured, already on his way back to sleep.

Lars decided it would be pointless to argue. He let himself follow.


	8. 8

Some days later, Scott was tapping a rythym-less tattoo on the counter top of the kitchen, while Lars tried to work. Eventually he grabbed Scott’s errant hand firmly, fixing him with a glare.

“Stop that.”

“Sorry I didn’t even know I was doing it.” Scott sighed. “I’m bored.”

“And boring.”

“Seriously, I’m going to lose my mind here. Let me help you with the books.”

“No. the last time you did them, you mutilated it. You’re great with a rifle but mathematician you are not.” he waved a hand. “Go play games. Surf the web. Lift weights. Anything, just stop getting on my nerves.”

“Fine.” Scott said, nettled. Lars didn’t care.

The truth of the matter was that Lars was also getting annoyed. Not because of Scott’s presence, but because neither Cowan nor Adelaide were responding to his efforts at communication, which meant he still couldn’t guarantee Scott’s safety. He couldn’t call his mother again, since her sympathy would evaporate the moment she knew Scott was still staying with him. Not that she didn’t likely already know. In the meantime he still had a business to run and clients to please. The doorbell rung and he made an annoyed sound, before going to see who it was. 

It wouldn’t be Adelaide, or some other petty assassin. Everyone knew it was bad manners to kill in someone’s own habitat. 

It was Seong. Lars tapped his chin, staring at the little man’s face on the video monitor next to the door before opening it slowly. Seong was holding a bottle of expensive champagne and a red rose, looking hopeful and apologetic. Lars didn’t find anything about the sight of him appealing, but he had to play it carefully. 

“Shooting star,” he said, planting his feet firmly apart and crossing his legs, not letting him in. “unlike you to come over uninvited.”

Seong looked at the floor in a mock self-deprecation, a gesture Lars had once found endearing but now left his exasperated. “I know. Things haven’t been great between us lately, and I wanted to apologise.” He held out the rose and the champagne.

Lars took his time taking them. “Hmmm. I’m not sure the apology is accepted.”

Seong thin exterior of patience bubbled away and Lars saw his round face twist in anger. “Why not?”

“I don’t know.” Lars shrugged. “Maybe because you’re telling stories behind my back to my mother of all people. Maybe because your stupid jealousy almost got Scott killed.”

“I didn’t-“

“Don’t lie to me.”

Seong’s anger wasn’t threatening, it had no bite. It was like watching a pot boiling over, but as long as you didn’t touch it, it wouldn’t damage you. Lars stepped back slightly, distaste plain on his face.

“Is that why I can’t come in? Because of you boyfriend?” Seong spat the word.

“Ha!” Lars laughed. “No really, you’re being funny. And no, the reason you can’t come in is because I now longer trust you, shooting star. You were a good enough lay, but I’m afraid I no longer trust your work ethic.”

Seong seethed. “You’re the one who’s being unprofessional.”

“Please.” Lars said, putting the champagne and rose down on a table just inside the door. “Let’s not pretend that this is about work. This about the fact that you think I prefer Scott’s cock to yours.”

Seong looked slapped, then recovered quickly. “Is it true?” he asked, a shimmer of vulnerability showing in his eyes. 

Lars sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, but the other man went on. “When you thought he was dying, when you thought he wouldn’t survive, I saw how you were. You wouldn’t have acted like that if it had been one of us.”

“Yes I would.” Lars said tiredly. 

“No you wouldn’t.”

“I hardly have to explain myself to you. But if you’re so pent up about it, why don’t you go and almost die, and then we can see?”

This was apparently too much for Seong, because he stepped up close to Lars then, though the act was fairly comical since he was so short and could hardly be intimidating from Lars’ shoulder height. Lars gazed at him coolly though, unmoved by the intensity of hatred on Seong’s face.

“Does it bother you to know you’re replaceable?” Lars told him before he could spit whatever vitriol he was lining up. “Both in my bedroom and on my payroll?”

That shocked him into silence. He stumbled back, then stomped off without another word. Lars let him go without further comment. Then he slowly backed into the apartment, and closed the door. 

Perhaps that could have gone better.

Then again, knowing Seong, probably not.

He picked up the champagne, musing over the label. Well at least the little man had given him a decent parting gift. He caught a movement from the corner of his eye, and turned to see Scott, who was watching him with a cool look. So he held up the bottle.

“Want some?”

“Was that Seong?” 

Lars walked on by him back to the kitchen.

“Yes, the little darling.” He said dismissively. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“I caught some of it, yeah.”

Lars busied himself with the bottle, then finding two glasses. “Hmmm.” Was all he said, not meeting the other man’s gaze? He saw a milky coloured hand come into his line of sight, and as it open a handful of crushed rose petals fell onto the counter in front of him.

“What did he mean?”

“What do you mean, what did he mean?”

“Don’t fuck around Lars.”

“Well, he was probably talking about that. How we haven’t fucked around since you’ve been around.” Lars replied jauntily. “He was always a jealous little thing. Tender hearted.”

Scott was quiet, and the only sound in the kitchen was the gentle pop as Lars opened the champagne. It frothed and Lars let it continue in the sink before pouring it. Shame about the waste. Then he felt Scott hand come around him from behind, and stiffened. Scott’s breathe was warm on his neck and he tried valiantly not to show any reaction to it. Then Scott pulled at him gently, turning his body around so that he faced the other man, once again coming into his personal space, placing himself between Lars’ legs.

“Was he talking about this?” he asked quietly. Lars eyelids fluttered.

“About what?” he lied.

Scott leaned into to kiss him then, and Lars didn’t stop him. Scott’s hands were warm under his shirt and Lars found his arms folding themselves around his neck automatically, eagerly pulling him into a deeper kiss, then he remembered Scott was injured.

“You’re an invalid.” Lars said, pulling away, but it was a feeble protest. Scott had better find some brakes, because Lars had used his up.

“I’m ok.” Scott told him. “I’ll yell uncle if you’re hurting me.”

“That’s not a very sexy safe word.”

“Safe words aren’t meant to be sexy.” Scott replied, descending to his neck, and Lars shivered when his stubble scraped along his soft skin there. 

“It’s been too long.” Lars murmured, letting his fingers dig into Scott hair.

“You could’ve had anyone. You could’ve have Seong.”

“Let’s not talk about that.” 

Scott bit into Lars shoulder, having removed the buttons of his shirt already and carefully pushed the material back. “No, lets.”

“Huh?” Lars said through the fog of lust.

“I want you to say it.” Scott pushed his hands underneath Lars behind and gripped, then he lifted him up until he was sitting on the counter and Scott had access to his chest.

“Say what?”

“That you like me.” Scott said, breathing a hot circle on his collar bone, then nipping at it. “That there’s something here.”

Lars stilled and Scott took it as an opportunity to yank Lars' trousers off. When had he undone them?

“I won’t say that.”

“You will. I’m not letting up until you do.” to prove his point he flicked a tongue over one nipple, causing an inward hiss from Lars.

“No.”

“Yes.” 

Scott vary carefully eased his fingers into the waist band of Lars boxers and pulled, and without coherent though Lars helped him take them off until he ass was bare against the cold marble. Scott didn’t touch his erect cock though. No, he bit once again at Lars neck, on the other side this time and sucked hard, painfully, intentionally causing a hickey to rise.

“Say it.” he murmured.

“No.” Lars breathed. 

Scott brought his fingers up to Lars mouth, letting his index and middle fingers trace their line and shape then pushing gently. Lars opened his jaw to accept them and the answering groan from Scott made his member twitch. Scott seemed to feel like this area was neglected enough and took it in his hand, causing Lars mouth to open wider and him to hunch forward. Scott gently pulled his saliva coated fingers away.

“Say it.”

“No.” barely a whisper.  
Scott fingers trailed between Lars’ legs, sliding around the tightness between his cheeks, and Lars threw his head back in anticipation. When Scott slid his fingers in, both at the same time, Lars had to hold onto this shoulders for support.

“Say it.”

This time Lars could only gasp weakly. Scott’s fingers were working inside him and his other hand gripping his cock gently was making him nonsensical. It hadn’t been like this before. Enjoyable, yes. But not…this.

“Say it.” Scott’s huffed words were barely audible. “And I’ll take you to bed.”

Lars struggled to breathe then. The smell of Scott’s shirt, which he had worn long enough to have rubbed his scent off on it but not long enough to wear out the newness, the scent of Lars’ own shampoo and product in his hair, the feeling of Scott’s muscles moving like snakes over each other under his hands. The physical and emotional intermingled too hard, making reasonability unclear. But there seemed to be only one word to answer all the questions Scott was asking.

“Yes.”

-8-

This time was not like the other times.

Every other time had been fun, light, and sometimes even ecclesiastical. Sex, in Lars’ book was an enjoyable past time, like a game he was very good at. Sex with Scott had been another interesting flavour to the palate.

He wasn’t sure when that had changed.

He certainly had no idea when he had started longing for Scott’s touch, rather than considering him in a line of possible tension relievers. When had the scent of Scott’s clean sweat become an aphrodisiac? When did the slide of their tongues become addictive and erotic beyond his control? Lars burned with an inner fire, fanned by the flames of a deeper feeling he had no desire to own, but couldn’t hold back after Scott had coaxed it out into the open.

So he let Scott draw him down onto his bed. He let himself become lost in the kisses and the touches. Scott dragged out the pinnacle moments until their sweat stained the sheets and Lars was senseless. His skin tingled, and his body shook uncontrollably, observing distantly how well matched they were, the seamlessness of their coupling, the ease with which they knew each other’s wants, speaking though no words sullied the air. There was only small gasps, murmured half-syllables and slick sounds.  
Lars let himself be undone. He was already half way there anyway. Thinking about Scott dying, thinking about Scott leaving, thinking about Scott, Scott, and Scott…


	9. 9

Lars had lit a cigarette, for the meagre solace it offered. Scott had clearly tuckered himself out the night before, because he was snoring softly in the bed next to him, his wide shoulder relaxed in sleep, hair a fluffy mess. Lars made an annoyed tsk with his teeth, inhaling hard on the cigarette making a fingernail length of ash.

Scott eventually stirred, levering himself up on his elbows and blinking like he was hungover. Then he winced slightly and turned onto his back; he must have pulled on the cut.

“Morning.” He muttered. “Can I have one?”

“No.” Lars said, peevishly.

Scott dropped his hand, looking away at the window and sighing. “Fine.”

Lars blew smoke at him. “This is why.”

“Why what?” Scott aimed an unimpressed look at him, not in the mood for games so early in the morning.

“Why there is a hit on you, idiot.”

Scott splayed a hand, still clueless and annoyed. So Lars, leaned over him, blowing smoke into his mouth before biting at his lower lip hard enough for Scott to protest. Lars moved to his ear.

“That’s why.” He explained, words sharp and cutting. “My mother want you dead, because you’re important to me.”

Scott’s annoyed look was replaced with realisation, and he touched his bruised lip gingerly. “Oh.”

“’Oh’, he says.” Lars repeated, acidly. Scott merely leaned back on the pillows.

“So what do we do about it?” Scott asked eventually.

Lars laughed, the sound grating and high pitched. “We, don’t do anything. You stay put, and let me handle it.”

“Don’t be an asshole.” Scott said, glaring at him now.

Lars nearly spat at him. “Shut the fuck up. I’ll be whatever I want.”

Scott sighed, keeping his patience but clearly struggling. “Stop snapping at me and explain this. Walk me through it.”

Lars tossed the finished cigarette to the side, uncaring of where it landed and lit a new one. “Seong told my mother you’re my favourite. My mother doesn’t believe in attachments. Cowan owed her a favour. Adelaide works for Cowan. Adelaide doesn’t leave work unfinished. And now, no one is taking my calls.” He turned and jabbed an accusatory finger at Scott. “And so, if you take a step outside my door, your life expectancy drops dramatically. Get it now?”

Scott exhaled a large breathe. “Yeah ok. That makes sense. Now would you care to explain why you’re blaming this on me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you do.”

Lars lost his temper. “How are you not to blame?” he jumped off the bed, feeling the need to move. “I never should have brought you here. You should have gone to Addie.”

“But then I’d be dead.”

“And I wouldn’t have this fucking headache called ‘Scott’!” Lars yelled, retreating into the shower.

He made the water too cold, then too hot, cursing both times, and was still seething when the bathroom filled with steam, leaning against the wall wishing he could claw away the tile. His keen hearing heard the shuffle of feet, the quiet cloth-ruffling of clothes falling to the floor, and wasn’t surprised when Scott slid an arm around his waist. 

In an automatic movement, he jerked the arm forward, lowering his shoulder and allowing the momentum of Scott’s heavier body to swing him into the slick tiled wall. He didn’t care that the other man winced as he smacked against the wall, or that his newly healed scar was still livid, growing even redder in the heat. Scott’s feet struggled to right themselves on the wet floor and Lars took the chance to grip him tightly around his neck, pinning him.

Scott met his glare with equal fury.

“Is that all you understand? Sex and violence?” he growled. But he didn’t lift a hand to protect himself.

“Yes.” Lars told him, willing him to see it. As if that would make things better, makes things go back to normal. “That’s what we are, remember? We are violent people. We get paid for our violence. And then we fuck. That’s all.”

“Fine.” Scott replied. “If you want to kill me, then all you have to do is let me walk out the door. If you want to fuck me, then fuck me.”

Lars pressed harder against him, feeling his Adams apple struggle to move beneath his hand. 

“But we both know,” Scott said, voice sounding hoarse. “That if that was all we were, this wouldn’t be happening right now.”

A moment longer passed, with Scott’s eyes boring into his, then Lars dropped his hand. Scott, to his credit, managed not to collapse to the floor. He let the spray cover them both, breathing heavily, then put a hand to Scott’s jaw, tilting it up to face him. 

“Are you done now?” Scott asked, still wary.

“Yes.” Lars said, knowing he had already given in the previous night.

“Great. Now can we figure out what to do about Adelaide?”

-8-

After a few days, they still didn’t have a plan. Everything they imagined got shot down. In the interim, Lars tried to teach Scott how to tie a plait.

“This is stupid.” Scott was saying, while Lars kept up with his accounts. They were only just keeping ahead of orders and it was making his mother disagreeable. Taking Scott out of rotation was hitting them hard, but Lars wasn’t sending him out yet.

“You are shit at chess, and all you can cook is an egg on toast. Develop a skill, for goodness sake.”

“You haven’t complained about my skills until now.” Scott replied, giving his hair a light tug, and earning him a pinch on his leg, since Lars was sitting on the floor between them.

“Your bedroom skills notwithstanding…”

“Actually I was talking about my shooting, but at least we know where Lars van Allen’s mind is.”

“This is hardly news.” Lars replied distractedly. He sighed, and felt the tension on his hair release. Scott’s hands rested instead on his collarbone.

“I wish I could help.”

Lars tilted his head up, gazing at him coolly. “Don’t mope.”

But Scott didn’t rise to it. “I hate sitting here on my ass doing nothing.”

“Oh, don’t be so down. You’re decent enough entertainment.” Lars replied, winking.

“I thought I wasn’t just your boy toy anymore.” Scott said, leaning down and letting his hands slide over the buttons on Lars’ shirt.

“Hmm.” Lars hummed. “I suppose not.”

Just then, Lars phone buzzed and he flipped it to his ear, not removing Scott’s arms. “Lars.”

“Laurence.” His mother’s dead tones came through the line.

“Mother.” He replied with false cheer. “You’ve been avoiding my calls.”

“I know that Scott is still staying with you.” she said, directly bypassing any politeness.

“So he is.”

“I told you to get rid of him. You never listen.” She said, sounding tired.

“I think I’m a little old for you to be telling me who I play with, mother.”

“Consider this your last courtesy call, regarding the matter.” She told him. “I am doing what’s best for you.”

“What’s best for me, or best for the belt?”

“Comes to the same thing, doesn’t it?”

Dial tone. Lars stared at the opposite wall unseeing, letting the phone slide down his shoulder and catching it.

“That didn’t sound good.” Scott said, he was still wrapped around Lars’ chest.

“It wasn’t.” Lars replied with a groan. He got up, bare feet sinking into the plush carpet and unravelling the mess Scott had made of his hair and starting over. “I always knew my   
mother wouldn’t approve of me making any kind of attachments, but I never thought she would go this far.”

Scott had collapsed backwards on the bed, and was watching him, as if waiting for direction. “So what now?”

“I don’t know.” Lars admitted, a shade hopelessly. “I’m…not very excited about you being dead.”

“Doesn’t thrill me either.”

They stared at each other, sharing an oddly raw moment that was both still too new for them to understand or acknowledge openly. It was like touching freshly healed skin, unbearably sensitive still.

Lars escaped it by going to put on coffee.


	10. 10

The doorbell chimed as Lars was coming out of the shower. When he saw who it was, he almost groaned aloud.

“I didn’t think I’d be seeing your face again at my door.” Lars drawled, as he opened the door. Seong stood there, face composed and cold. 

Then, in a moment that was both infinite and unspeakably fast, the smaller man launched himself at Lars, knife in hand. Taken unawares, Lars collapsed backwards, Seong’s hand clasped in his hair and making his head hit the ground hard. If it wasn’t for the carpeting, Lars would have had a concussion. Before he could get up, he felt the sharp edge of a blade pressed to his neck. Expertly, Seong had managed to get Lars arms at his sides and pinned them close with his legs, straddling him. Even though he was small and slight, he was quick, which was part of Lars had enjoyed working with him for so long.

“What the fuck is going on?” Lars hissed, trying to look Seong in the eye, but his hand was pushing his face into the carpet and all he could see was fuzz.

And then the slow march of leather court shoes, a tattoo of a pixie peaking over the edge of the one closest to his face. 

“No.” he breathed.

“Yes.” Adelaide replied, still walking past. “You just relax, Lars darling. I have something to finish up here.”

Lars strained to see past, but Seong's hand was gripping his chin roughly and forcing him to look upwards.

“What have you done?” Lars asked him.

“What I had to do.” Seong replied, eyes cold.

Lars breathed in deeply. “I’m giving you one last chance, shooting star. Let me up now, or this will end badly for you.”

This time, Seong’s eyes melted into something that was a complicated mix of hurt and resignation. “I only have to keep you here for three minutes. And I’ll do it.”

In that moment of relaxation, Lars had his opening. He pushed his hips upwards violently, un-balancing Seong, and twisted under him before the smaller man could readjust his grip. He pulled one arm free and managed to get enough momentum into to bring a hand to Seong's chest. The angle was awkward, but it did the job, which was to send Seong catapulting to the side. In the confusion, Lars wrestled the knife away from him, and stood up just high enough to come down again on Seong’s stomach with his knee, knocking the air out of him with a pathetic wheeze.

“You are such a fool.” He said to Seong, who was still coughing, fighting to drag air into his lungs. He only shook his head feebly, and Lars felt pity for him. Not sympathy. Only pity.

Lars took the chance to hit him hard enough with the hilt of the knife to knock him out. Seong was such a lightweight, it was easy. Then he launched him upwards, pelting towards the shower where Scott had been last. As he approached the door at speed, he saw steam pouring out of the open door, but he heard no sounds, but that could be because the adrenaline surging in his ears was blocking everything out.

It was hard to see in the steamy fog that the bathroom had become, but he arrived in time to hear the hard slap of a body falling to the floor of the shower.

“Scott!” Lars shouted, making his way through the fog. No one answered him, but the noises had stopped.

“Scott, answer me damn you.” Lars said, softer this time, dread crawling over his skin.

“I’m here.” He heard, Scott’s voice small and breathless.

Lars found him propped up against the wall of the shower, a large weeping gash angling from his collar bone down to his rib cage, and Adelaide now soaking body face down. The bottom of the shower stall was a bloody pool, the red fluid pouring down the drain in a sight that was at once familiar and horrifying. 

Lars stepped cautiously around her towards Scott, clasping his cheek and turning his face upwards.

“You alive?”

“I’m alive.”

Lars collapsed backwards, landing on his rump and head slumping forward. His heart was beating so hard it hurt.

“God.”

-8-

Once again, Dr. Nilsson came to Lars’ apartment, once again to stitch Scott up. It turned out Scott had another partially fractured rib and his cheek was already swollen with an indigo coloured bruise. He told Lars one of his teeth was loose.

“She packed a hard right hook.” Scott said, through the puffing of his mouth.

Had. Past tense. Dr Nilsson had already confirmed her dead, his dead pan expression never changing. 

While Scott was getting his second set of stitched, Lars busied himself with tying Seong up and storing him in the spare room. He didn’t want to deal with that headache yet. Instead he called his mother.

“Laurence.” She answered on the fourth ring.

“I thought you should know.” Lars Sais in a calm voice. “That Adelaide paid me a visit tonight.”

The stunned silence on the other end was telling. “She came to your door?” even his mother knew how it wasn’t done, to bring the killing to anyone’s door. They were shadow people, committing their dark deeds in the city, they didn’t sully the kitchen tiles. 

“Yes. With knives. Seong brought her.”

“Ugh.” She made a disgusted sound. “You’re always making such a mess of things.”

“Me?” he demanded, his cool evaporating. “I didn’t start this.”

“Didn’t you? If you were more careful with your play things, this wouldn’t have happened at all.”

Lars stopped. She was right. He had known Seong was attached, he had known he was jealous. He hadn’t known he was insane though.

“In any case, its resolved now.” he went on.

“Is it?”

“Adelaide’s dead.”

More silence.

“Cowan won’t be happy his favourite knife is gone.”

“He should have kept a tighter rein on her.”

“Did you do it?”

“No.” Lars said, refusing to let his voice contain any trace of pride. “Scott did.”

“Did he now?” was he imagining things or was his ever laconic mother impressed?

“Yes.”

“Well.”

Lars let the silence pull out a bit then couldn’t stop himself from asking. “Will you call it off now?”

There was a considering moment, and he imagine his mother toying with the tassels on her head scarf, contemplating.

“Fine. Seems like he has proved himself a worthy asset.”

Lars didn’t let one ounce of his relief show. “Good. And please stay out of my love life from now on.”

“I make no guarantees.”


End file.
